


In Estrus

by facelessoldwoman



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: College AU, Gen, Giraffes, Modern AU, Texting, anatomically correct dick jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facelessoldwoman/pseuds/facelessoldwoman
Summary: Tina Goldstein has big dreams and even bigger doubts, Newt helps.





	1. Chapter 1

Tina Goldstein walked out of her Human Biology class, quite certain that she had never been more embarrassed in all her life. The entire lesson focused on reproduction, and not just the abridged version her parents gave her in second grade ( _Now Tina, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much …_ ). She had never seen so many penises in her entire life, all of them bisected and intricately labeled, mapping the mind-boggling journey of different fluids in little tubes whirling around in the mad dash trying to create life.

All of this information was delivered by Mr. Grunnings, a man in pleated pants and middle-parted hair who appeared to be completely removed from the spectrum of human sexuality. He had called on Tina specifically to compare sperm and semen.

“Honestly professor, I wouldn’t know the Vas Deferens.”

Tina regretted it as soon as she said it, but said it she had. After a long pause one of her more attentive male peers noticed what she had said and started a slow-clap, and then everyone had started laughing. No, not everyone: Mr. Grunnings was removed not only from the spectrum of human sexuality but also from the effect of puns, it seemed … and now she had to finish the rest of the semester with this teacher after she made a dick joke in front of 300 other students.

Perfect, just perfect.

 

Tina didn’t want to talk to anyone after that. She didn’t want to talk to anyone ever again. Well, she didn’t want to talk to anyone … except for him.

 **T:** Hey Newt, you awake?

 

Newt Scamander was a graduate student studying abroad Tina met last year on a message board for animal rights. Whenever Tina talked to him he was somewhere else: Africa, South America, tiny Pacific islands - anywhere with a dense ecosystem and a bit of wildlife that has heretofore been undisturbed. It was an exciting life, from what Tina could tell, but it made keeping in touch difficult. She never could get the hang of time zones. 

 

 **N:** Yes.

 **T:** What time is it there?

 **N:** Quarter till 3.

 **T:** Morning or afternoon?

 **N:** Morning.

 

Tina flinched. 

 

 **T:** Go to sleep, Newt.

 **N:** Nonsense, you didn’t message me just to make sure I kept my bedtime. What’s up?

 

 **N:** Tina?

 

 **T:** Do you ever think that human mating is the most embarrassing thing in the entire world?

 **N:** I don’t know, I’ve seen a few species that would give us a run for our money.

 **T:** Oh yeah?

 **N:** Let’s just say I’m glad I’m not a giraffe.

 **T:** Do I want to know?

 **N:** Probably not.

 **T:** Okay.

 **N:** The mating process begins when the male tries to drink the female giraffe’s urine to detect if she’s in estrus.

 **T:** Newt, enough!

 

Oceans away, in some dark jungle, Tina was sure that Newt was laughing at her.

 

 **N:** So why the embarrassment, mating ritual gone wrong?

 **T:** No! No, nothing like that. I just really hate biology class.

 **N:** Sacrilege, that was my favorite subject!

 **T:** I wish you were here, then I might actually enjoy it.

 

 **T:** Newt?

 **T:** Newt, are you asleep?

 **N:** Sorry, I just, I wish I was there, too.


	2. Catching Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newt is the friend at the sleepover who wakes you up at 2am to ask if you think pigeons have feelings.

Half a world away, where the night was dark but never quiet, Newt's face was lit by the screen of his phone. His skin was slick with sweat and a clump of curly hair was stuck to his brow, but he had lived for so long in the humidity that this failed to bother him anymore. After a few moments his phone went dark.

"Jacob," Newt said. He waited a second, "Hey Jacob."

From the bunk below Jacob groaned and rolled in his bunk. Newt heard the springs squeak and Jacob's voice was muffled by his pillow, "What?"

"Are you awake?" Newt said.

"I am now," Jacob said, lifting his head, "What is it?"

"Do you ever think about going back home?" Newt said. 

Jacob sighed, "I think about it all the time."

Newt and Jacob had been on a research expedition for the last 7 months, with another 5 to go. They took breaks occasionally to ride a train into a neighboring town for a weekend but home was half way around the globe and it may as well be on another planet. In truth, despite the passion and the excitement, fieldwork was a lonely affair. Even though they were surrounded by people, Newt and Jacob spent long humid days speaking poorly in a second language to polite but clearly exasperated locals, and the only people they could confide in at the end of the day were each other. The only other person besides Jacob that Newt had spoken to beyond a simple ' _hello_ ' or ' _can you help me find my suitcase?_ ' in the last several months was Tina, and that was almost entirely over text. 

Newt read Tina's message again and again, ' _Wish you were here._ ' Newt hadn't wavered once in his resolve since he left home, but now?

"What do you miss most?" Newt asked.

"Being able to drink the tap water," Jacob yawned.

"Only that?" Newt asked.

"No, not only that," Jacob said, pausing, "More than that, a million little things. I don't want to get into it." 

Newt knew that Jacob left behind a fractured family after his brother died. Jacob was so open about most everything in his life but it took months for Newt to pull the story out of him: the anger and the sadness, the grief and the guilt. The family had known about his depressive episodes in the past but they lost him suddenly the summer after Jacob graduated from high school. He hadn't left a note. Jacob delayed starting college for an entire year, and his grandmother moved in to help the family recover. She baked with him everyday and sparked an interest in him that had stuck. He spoke of her often.

"You miss them," Newt said.

Jacob coughed.

Newt waited a few minutes before he said, "Why don't we just go for it?"

"Go for what?" Jacob asked.

"Go home." 

"I can never tell when you're kidding," Jacob said.

"I would never kid about that," Newt said.

"We already booked our flight in August," Jacob said, "Are we going to bail out now?"

"Of course not, short diversion is all," Newt said, "I'll clear it all up with our advisor first thing tomorrow morning. They can do without us here for a few days, don't you think?"

Jacob thought of their landlady yelling at them each day to walk up the stairs more quietly so that they wouldn't interrupt her soap operas.

"They probably wouldn't mind a break," Jacob said, "Anyway, how we going to pay for it, our stipend isn't going to cover that."

"I have connections," Newt said, thinking that professor Dumbledore might just be willing to put a trip home in the budget if they came up with a _really_ good reason for it. Good Man, Dumbledore. 

"What's this really about, Newt?" Jacob asked, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Newt said, "I'm fine, completely fine."

"This isn't about ... _her,_ is it?" 

"Absolutely not!"

If Newt had been patient and persistent to learn about Jacob's brother, Jacob had been doubly persistent to get Newt to talk about Leta. Newt blamed that conversation on the photograph of her that he kept in the bottom of his suitcase, but no matter how badly he wanted to forget he couldn't leave it behind. If Newt missed Leta at all the feeling wasn't mutual, he hadn't heard from her in years. She might even be dead.

_No, don't think that, never that._

"So it's not about a girl?"

"No!"

"Then who have you been texting all night?" Jacob said, and Newt heard the smile in his voice. 

"It's just a friend," Newt said, "Who is a girl."

"It's fine, you know," Jacob said, "If it's about a girl."

"I know."

"We've all been there."

"Yeah."

"Newt?"

"Good night, Jacob."

"Good night."

 


	3. Join the Parade

It was a glorious day in spring, and everyone on campus was celebrating.

Well, not everyone.

Tina retreated away into her dorm again, hiding from the sunshine with a cup full of coffee in her hand and her deadlines on her mind. Outside her window students slunk by on longboards and frisbees flew back and forth in lazy arcs like flying squirrels. Inside there was a dinky microwave that smelled of strudel and a overstuffed bookshelf that contained as much C.S. Lewis as it did microbiology.

Tina decorated in texture as much as anything else. Her bedspread was threadbare and dear to her, and beneath her feet a paisley rug comforted her toes. She kept a stack of newspapers and magazines at the foot of her bed and a parade of origami animals walked across her windowsill. She was most proud of the dragon made with her coveted emerald green paper, it had taken weeks to coax the lizard into perfect shape.

On her wall there was a bulletin board with a collection of postcards, Tina reviewed them happily. One was from an alligator farm in Florida, and another was a photo of an Okapi from the Democratic Republic of the Congo - on the back of the card Newt had written about the legends surrounding the okapi, and their wary, solitary natures. ‘ _Most closely related to giraffes_ ,’ Tina read incredulously. She refused to blush. She placed the photo back on the board where it belonged.

Tina cleaned off her desk and set to work. She had just cracked open her calculus textbook when her phone vibrated. Tina tried to ignore her phone but her phone had other ideas.

 **Q:** Whatcha doing?

 **Q:** Tina.

 **Q:** Tina, What are you doing?

 **T:** Studying.

Tina felt bad ignoring Queenie, her younger sister, who was living at home for the first time in her life after Tina had abandoned her for university. Well, technically it was the second time. Queenie was actually accepted into the same school as Tina last year but she had dropped out by the spring and wouldn’t hear talk of trying again. Tina didn’t press her on this, she knew how hard lecture halls had been on her sister’s nerves.

Queenie had taken to working as a hostess part time, flitting from restaurant to restaurant depending on where she could get shifts, and Tina felt safe knowing that Queenie was only a trainride away if she ever needed her. 

 **Q:** Come out with me tonight.

 **T:** I can’t.

 **Q:** Why not?

 **T:** I have mid terms next week.

 **Q:** Come on, Tina, I just got paid!

It bothered Tina more than a little bit that Queenie made more in a weekend than Tina had ever made in a week for an hourly job, but Queenie was charming and servers were willing to split tips with the smiling girl who brought in so many customers. All Tina seemed to get for her troubles was more student loan debt.

 **T:** Save your money, Queenie.

 **Q:** Boo, you’re no fun.

 **T:** Love you.

 **Q:** ;p

Tina waited for a response but Queenie could be flighty at the best of times and it didn’t take much to distract her attention from world bubbles on a small screen. Soon her screen faded to black and chirped no more.

Tina glared at her textbook, but the numbers danced into a sea of nonsense. 

Then her phone vibrated. Tina sighed and expected to argue with her sister about whether or not she should take the train home tonight, but the message was one that she did not expect.

 

 **N:** Want to meet in New York?


	4. 4/5 Dentists Agree

In the morning Newt climbed down the old wooden ladder that rattled their shared bunks with every creaking step. Then he pulled the cord that hung from the ceiling and then tapped the bulb gingerly with his finger, filling the room with a warm buzzing light.

“EEK!” Jacob said.

Over night the room their room had attracted a rave of fuzzy moths, each of them the size of a grown man’s hand. They fell off the walls into a spiraling dance at the excitement of new light and waking human tenants. Newt smiled at the flapping of their large paper thin wings. The large dark spots spread on both sides of their wings resembled eyes and kept predators at bay, incredible creatures.

Jacob, clearly not as impressed, fled to the bathroom to the bathroom to brush his teeth but stopped before he even turned the faucet on. Jacob turned to Newt and said, "There's a moth on my toothbrush." 

Newt rushed in, "Don't hurt her, she's beautiful." 

"She can be beautiful somewhere else," Jacob said.

"I'll get her, I'll get her," Newt cooed, picking up the toothbrush and walking to the window, " _Come to mummy, there you go_."

"This is why you're the bug guy," Jacob said, "You can toss that toothbrush when you're done I don't want it anymore."

“ _Don’t mind him, he’s harmless_ ,” Newt whispered to the moth, then he opened the window and let in the unbridled chorus of wild life waiting for them out in the great wide world. Newt held the moth aloft and said, “You go out there and find a mate all right? Good luck!”

Jacob smirked, “I know you live and die by your Darwin but there’s more to life than reproduction.”

“Not for fully grown Saturniidae,” Newt said, “They don’t have functioning mouths or digestive tracts so they live off stored lipids from the larval stage of development. After they finish their metamorphosis they’re on borrowed time with nothing left for them to do but reproduce.” 

“And they get to fly,” Jacob said, watching their friend take off from his toothbrush and into the humid morning air.

“There’s also that,” Newt smiled.

Jacob gripped Newt’s shoulder briefly then took the toothbrush from his hand and threw it in the garbage.

 

Meanwhile, in a university administrative office in a completely different time zone, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore struggled with a bag of lemon drops.

“Damn them, damn me,” Albus muttered as he fought with the bag, pulling at both corners and biting at the top with his teeth. Across his desk a bright young adjunct looked at him with wide horrified eyes.

“Professor,” Minerva said.

“Hm?” Albus said, looking up without taking the bright yellow plastic out of the corner of his mouth.

Minerva glanced meaningfully at the scissors on the corner of his desk. Albus chuckled and sliced the bag wide open with a single swipe. He paused to pop a single candy into his mouth before offering the rumpled bag to Minerva. She declined.

“If I had any weakness, it would be my sweet tooth,” Albus said, savoring for a moment before he spoke again, “But you came here for other matters, surely.”

“Yes,” Minerva said, bringing out a folder full of paperwork. She was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone. Albus held up a finger as he picked up the receiver but he bade her not to leave with his tone, which hinted that the call would be brief.

“Yes,” Albus said, “Yes. Good. Very well, do that, then.”

He hung up the phone just as abruptly as he had answered it, and Minerva sat stunned.

“What was that about?” Minerva asked.

“Pupil’s ask me for favors,” Albus said, “It’s easier to say yes than to argue no for six weeks before I end up saying yes anyway.”

“What did they ask?” Minerva asked.

“Oh, something about international travel,” Albus shrugged.

“International travel?”

“Grad students on foreign study,” Albus said, “I’m surprised they haven’t requested it already, most don’t make it through their first Christmas without begging me to dip into the budget to send them home.”

“Serious students, then,” Minerva nodded approvingly, “What changed?”

“What changed?” Albus laughed, “There’s a girl, obviously. Or a boy. It doesn’t matter, they’re model students so long as they don’t get into too much trouble I’m willing to indulge them.”

Minerva shook her head, wondering just how much trouble was ‘too much’ in his eyes.

“While you’re in a generous mood,” Minerva cleared her throat, “I really need your signatures on these requisition forms.”

“I’m afraid I’m busy,” Albus said, opening Solitaire on his desktop computer. Minerva hit him with a lemon drop.

Jacob waited outside while Newt made his phone call. After what seemed much too short a time Newt joined him.

“Did you leave a message?” Jacob asked.

“No,” Newt said.

“Then what’d he say, don’t leave me hanging?” Jacob asked.

Newt sighed shakily and put his phone in his pocket, then he turned to Jacob and said, “Pack your bags, we’re going home!”

“Three cheers for Dumbledore!” Jacob said, picking up Newt around the middle and lifting him up off his feet. Newt coughed tightly and then patted Jacob’s shoulder to be let down.

"Oh man, I've got so much to do," Jacob said, "I have to call my mom, I have to ... pack my bags, find my passport, uh ..."

"Buy a new toothbrush?" Newt said.

"Right!" Jacob said, "First things FIRST!"

Jacob went off in search of a toothbrush and Newt pulled out his phone, he only had one person he wanted to share this news with - and he couldn't wait to tell her.


	5. No Witnesses. No Leads. No Problem.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people like Peter Thomas, some people prefer David Attenborough.

It was the dead of night before her last exam, a nail-biter that had kept her up past midnight worrying. She needed to sleep but couldn’t stop thinking, imagining, fixating. She wanted to study but she couldn’t focus. All she could do was worry. Outside her window crickets chirped and a woodpecker knocked determinedly at a fencepost.

She made a few more paper mice for the origami parade and lay back in bed. She sighed and counted backwards from ten, and then from twenty.

Nothing.

 **N:** Tina

Tina snatched at her phone, desperate for distraction.

 **T:** Yes?

 **N:** Go to bed.

 **T:** Not fair, you don’t get to bother me like that.

 **N:** If you were asleep I wouldn’t be bothering you.

 **T:** I’m nervous.

 **N:** You’re going to do great, I know it.

In the dark, alone but not alone, Tina scowled.

 **T:** Easy for you to say, I’m the one who has to take the test. >:(

 **N:** Sleep, you’ll feel better.

 **T:** Don’t you ever worry about anything?

 **N:** My philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice ;)

 **T:** You’re preposterous.

Tina lay awake and she wondered about him, about his voice and what he looked like when he smiled. She wondered if he was polite to waiters and if he had a good relationship with his mother.

The kinds of things she knew about him, his home town and his course of study, were the kinds of things anyone would know about a casual friend, and yet she felt she knew him so much better. She spent more time talking with him than she did with most anyone, save maybe Queenie. It was nearly enough to make Queenie jealous, nearly.

Tina wondered if he ever wondered about her.

 **T:** You’re not like, a serial killer, right?

 **N:** Doubting me already?

 **T:** No! Maybe. Maybe I watch too much Forensic Files.

 **N:** Never watched it, I was always more into nature documentaries than true crime.

 **T:** David Attenborough fanboy, huh?

 **N:** Nothing wrong with that.

Tina paused a moment, wondering.

 **T:** Newt, what are you doing right now, at this very moment?

 **N:** Talking to you, of course.

 **T:** I know what, but, what’s going on there. Let me in, a little, would ya?

 

Newt paused a moment, wondering.

Newt had spent the morning walking through muck and fighting mosquitos the size of dragonflies in order to take pictures of large game as the sun rose - the time when they would most likely be active. So far he had successfully fallen into a pit the size of a king sized bed and now he was staring up at the retreating moon through a hole in the canopy of trees above him.

Newt wasn’t panicking. He reasoned that could call Jacob to come help … as soon as Jacob woke up. That would be soon. Probably.

 **N:** I’m making coffee.

 **T:** You don’t drink coffee.

_Drat._

**N:** For Jacob, I’m making coffee for Jacob.

 **T:** Well, tell him I said hi.

Newt pulled something from underneath him, something was digging into his back. It was a fallen branch the size of a broom that was as sharp as a scalpel at the protruding end. If this stick had been angled slightly differently when he fell … Newt threw the stick away. It made an unsatisfying muffled noise when it landed. Wind rustled through the trees.

 **T:** I’m looking forward to meeting you, finally.

Newt felt something move in his hair.

 **N:** …

 **T:** Newt?

Newt felt something poking his brow, something moving and alive.

 **N:** …

 **T:** Is everything okay?

 

Tina writhed in communication limbo as she watched the little speech bubble from across the world appear and disappear, indecisive, elusive. What was he thinking? Was she too forward, had she scared him off? She thought that he had wanted to see her. And after all this time, all this waiting, she thought … she thought she would FINALLY see him, and …

A text came in.

 **N:** I just met a new friend, and if I can get him past customs neither of us can wait to see you in New York!!

An image loaded in the message. Newt had taken a selfie with a bright green stick bug the size of a dinner fork. The stick bug appeared to be examining Newt’s eyebrow thoughtfully. Newt was beaming.

 _His smile_ , Tina thought, _now I know_.

 **T:** That doesn’t look like coffee.

 **N:** Not exactly.

Tina laughed, he was filthy. He looked like he had crawled out of the center of the Earth.

 **T:** What’s his name?

 **N:** Pickett.

 **T:** That’s adorable.

 **N:** Sleep tight, Tina. And good luck.

 **T:** Night, Newt. And Thanks.

And with that, Tina was finally able to quiet her mind and chase fancies that had nothing to do with grading curves.


	6. Mom's Spaghetti

Tina Goldstein arrived on exam day with a crisp blue book and several finely sharpened #2’s in her bag, all of which she laid out neatly across her preferred desk in the middle of the front row. She listened carefully to the directions from her professor and didn’t set her pencil to paper until the exam was officially started.

Tina felt many things: nausea, worry, excitement. She also felt the still-gooey gum under her desk as she scratched her knee. She uncrossed her legs and returned to the exam.

Tina had reason to worry: the exam was 40% of her final grade in a mandatory credit for her degree. More than that Tina wanted to prove herself, this was her favorite subject but it was one that didn’t come easily to her. She had spent many Saturdays in the library working on essays, researching and struggling to come up with a new angle that might intrigue the young professor that led the class. On the days that graded papers were returned she found red ink dappled across her carefully crafted pages, instructor’s marks telling her to revise and then re-revise her thesis and to quit splicing commas.

And so she revised.

Still, she was scraping by the skin of her teeth and she wanted at least a C to pass but she needed a B or better in this class to take the next level of this series of courses. So far she would need an exceptional grade on the exam in order to crack the 80% barrier, so she decided that an exceptional performance is what she would deliver. 

She worked hard all through the appointed 2 hours, studying the prompts, the readings, applying as much evidence as she could to validate her points. She waited until the last 10 minutes to turn in her test, one of the last few remaining to stand and walk the long twenty feet to the instructor’s desk. It was quiet, stifling. Someone coughed.

“Professor?” Tina asked.

“Hm?” he said, not bothering to glance over his newspaper, “Ah, yes, just leave it there.”

“I was wondering,” Tina said.

“Hm?”

“If it would be possible, to know, to know how I did?”

“All grades will be posted one week after the test date,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Tina said, glancing at all of the hard work from her semester sitting piled on an instructor’s desk in notebook paper and pencil handwriting. It looked … small.

The newspaper lowered. Mr. Graves was famous in the criminology department for his tailored suits and precisely styled hair, but Tina always noticed his eyes: he had a way of looking at you like you were in trouble, but he wasn’t going to be the person to report you. It made Tina blush. She took a step back.

“Tina?”

_That voice…_

“Sir?”

“Porpentina Goldstein?”

Tina choked, he remembered her name. Crap, he remembered her _full_ name.

“Yes?”

“I’ll email you when the grades are ready, maybe we can schedule a conference.”

“Th-thank you sir, thank you so much!” Tina said.

“No problem, Goldstein,” the newspaper rose again, “Have a nice weekend.”

“You, too!”

Tina almost tripped over her own feet trying not to run out of the lecture hall in her excitement. She made it all the way around the corner before she started jumping up and down and shrieking, manic and unintelligible in her glee.

She had done it. She had survived it. And he, Mr. Graves, had noticed her. Her. It was beyond belief. It was simply beyond the realm of the credible.

Tina looked around to see if anyone was watching, then she straightened her clothes and her hair. She walked away from class and all of her remaining responsibilities on campus for the next week, ready to cut and run as far away as she possibly could.


	7. Driven to Distraction

Newt opened up a window to search for flights. Outside the winds were finally picking up, it rattled something inside him, making him even more anxious and ready to leave.

Jacob washed and served a tray of berries for them to eat as they browsed, a local variety flecked with surprising colors. Newt made sure to leave a few on his outstretched coat thrown on a chair in the corner - Pickett had followed him home after their early morning encounter in the folds of his coat and had since been resistant to leaving it. The least he could do was offer a little hospitality.

“There’s no way we’re booking direct, not at that price,” Newt said, scrolling through page 14 of the search results which had floundered into dodgier and dodgier airlines with names that sounded 115% made up. They were working on a limited budget, one that Newt hoped to stretch to include their travel expenses once they arrived. At this rate he’d have to apply to take out a small business loan in order to check their luggage, “We’ll have to do a connection flight, probably two.”

“Connection, how long?” Jacob asked.

“Depends, best to leave a few hours at least in case something goes wrong on the day,” Newt said. He opened up a new window and scrolled through the possibilities, familiar acronyms opening up before him: LHR, CDG, FRA, JFK. He turned the map on his screen for Jacob to see, “Pick your poison.”

“I don’t know,” Jacob said, “I’ve never been to England.”

Newt paused, shook his head, “Yeah, best not.”

“You could have a proper cup of tea, watch Top Gear,” Jacob jabbed, Newt tried to fight back a smile, “You could see your folks.”

Newt stilled, “No, Jacob.”

“You still haven’t told me what’s going on with them,” Jacob said.

“Nothing’s going on with them,” Newt said, “They are perfectly contented people. We were going to visit _your_ parents, not mine.”

“Why don’t you want to see them?” Jacob asked.

“Because I just _don’t_ , okay,” Newt slapped the laptop closed, “I don’t want to come home after all this time with nothing to show for it but mud on my boots and a banged up suitcase.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re a student, not a fugitive,” Jacob said.

“What’s the difference?” Newt said.

Jacob opened the laptop on his own and took a bite of the berry left on his plate. He chewed for a few moments, considering, “Dublin, then?”

“Maybe,” Newt said.

“Could still get a good cup of tea,” Jacob said, “Maybe even something a little stronger …”

“Now you’re talking,” Newt said, taking the lead as he scrolled through the best deals he could find, searching one-stops, then two, then three, “Oh, here’s one, how do you feel about Reykjavík?”

“Uh, cold?”

“I already booked it,” Newt said, “We leave in 6 hours.”


	8. Mind the Gap

The next day Tina packed a duffle-bag with everything she could imagine needing in New York and boarded the first train leaving for home. She watched the buildings and districts slip by from a dirty window below an advertisement for vacations in the Bahamas. Tina had ridden this train many times over the years as a student, as a visitor, and sometimes even as just another tired and hungover traveler in need of sleep. Today, though, she was more excited than she had ever been, practically buzzing. Soon she would be taking the train into the City, and Newt would be there, and who knew what would happen. Anything. Everything. Probably Everything.

Tina smiled as took her earbuds to listen to the announcements coming over the speakers and counted down the stops.

Tina noticed an elderly woman in white capris looking at the rail map overhead, her lips in a thin line of concern. Tina walked across the train compartment to ask her where she was going, and determined that if the woman got off in two stops she’d be able to make a connection to get on the right train. The woman nodded as Tina told her this but she looked no less uncertain. Tina offered to accompany her to the platform, and the woman gratefully accepted. Tina and the woman got to know each other as they slowly navigated the stairs at the station and found an attendant to give them a map of the train lines. It turned out that the woman’s name was Doris and she was meeting her brother’s second wife for a girl’s weekend in Atlantic City. She said she planned to hit the big one. Tina wasn’t sure what that meant.

Tina checked her watch nervously as she said goodbye to Doris, the older woman hugged her for what seemed like entirely too long. When all was said and done Tina ended up delaying her arrival by over 40 minutes, and the crowd on the train was noticeably lighter when she finally got back on the proper track. Tina practically jumped out the door as the train reached her stop.

Outside the weather took a turn towards grey. All of that springtime optimism was devoured by a frosty winter wind, litter flew down the street revealing the shapes of dancing whirlwinds. It would almost be pretty if the dust wasn’t flying into her eyes.

Just as Tina reached her block the sky opened and pelted her with sharp pellets of cold rain. Tina started running, clutching her bag to her chest to keep her balance as she ran, running past bus stops and store windows straight to the stoop that held her front door. Boys whistled as she ran by and Tina ignored them, biting back bitter tears from a cramp that drove a wedge up the inside of her ribcage.

Tina gasped her way up the stairs, too tired to make any kind of justification to Mrs. Esposito about why she had slammed the door on the way in. Tina had given up on making a good impression with Mrs. Esposito a long time ago.

Tina crashed through their apartment door, wild-eyed and panting: her hair was frizzy, part of it slicked down with sweat and rain, the rest wispy and wind blown, and her cheeks were bright red. Queenie looked up at her sister with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Queenie asked.

“I’m. Not. Sure,” Tina gasped, throwing down her duffle bag and struggling to take off her jacket which was caught in a cruel twist of layers and uncooperative buttons.

“Hush, let me,” Queenie said, her nimble fingers loosening the buttons with ease. Tina look in a thankful breath as the damp fabric slid off her sticky skin.

“You need a shower, honey,” Queenie said, smoothing a strand of hair away from her eyes. That sounded so good that Tina could have wept.

 

Queenie shepherded her sister into the shower, and smiled as she heard the tap turn on from outside the door. _Yes,_ she thought, _That’ll do her a world of good_.

Queenie turned her attention to the pile of bags that Tina left by the front door. Normally Tina was the one who insisted on order: taking off shoes inside, hanging coats in the closet, and leaving keys in the bowl. How often had Tina chided, how often had Tina dutifully helped Queenie pull off her mittens and her boots? It made Queenie smile to reverse their roles and to take care of something for Tina for a change. Just as she picked up Tina’s jacket the pocket chirped.

 _What’s this?_ Queenie wondered, pulling out her sister’s phone.

Queenie easily bypassed the security code, she didn’t need to be a mindreader to know that Tina would choose their mother’s birthday as her password. It was a message from someone called Newt. They were trying to set up a Skype call.

After a moment of consideration Queenie accepted the call and opened the chat window.


	9. I Said Maybe

They’d been in Dublin approximately 6 hours but it felt more like 6 years.

After a storm turned their layover into an all-nighter Jacob and Newt decided to pop out of the airport to see the city. The taxi line had been a disaster and so they took the bus, a dark and quiet vehicle that sheltered them from the rain as it lumbered into the city proper. They could see the noise and the lights of the city, but they didn’t have much time to appreciate it, especially when everything that made the city unique was cloaked in darkness. All cities seem alike in the dark, even more so in the rain.

Jacob had spent the flight with his nose buried in a copy of Frommer’s, and he helpfully explained as they passed a giant flagpole that it was called the Spire of Dublin, and that the river running through the city was the River Liffey. The rest was too waterlogged to be distinguished. Jacob pointed vaguely across the river and said that there was a castle on the other side, and Newt decided to take him at his word on that.

Their hostel was a hole in the wall, an apt expression as the hostel was snugly fitted into the broad and otherwise featureless brick wall. They had walked past it twice before they saw the brass knob. Inside there were low ceilings a warm energy, travelers from all over the world bumped elbows with each other: America, Bolivia, Cambodia, Denmark - and of course a reliable group of plucky Australians centered around a small TV playing a rerun of Top Gear. Newt noticed with curiosity that someone had brought an acoustic guitar, but Jacob had steered them forcefully away when they heard the familiar opening licks of Wonderwall (Newt knew that the tune would be stuck in his head for days, regardless, some things just couldn’t be helped).

They paid a tall white man with dreadlocks for two beds, and he gave them a stack of folded sheets before he led them down the hall. A young Greek couple were already in the room, staking their claim on the other set of beds and arguing about a map (presumably, it was hard to tell what they were arguing about but the man was shaking a map in the air emphatically). The dreadlocked man simply shrugged and pointed to a bathroom down the hall. Normally Jacob would fall into his role a peacemaker, but this was beyond even his abilities. They tucked away their suitcases and walked out to find the closest pub.

There they had been for the last two hours, playing cards and knocking back enough Guinness to warrant keeping their barstools. There was live music, and the crowd seemed to know the songs even if neither of them could understand the words. Time seemed to flow.

“You wahnt t’buy me a drink, then?” a young woman said. She had large dark hair and a tight black dress that threatened to climb up her skinny legs. She rested her hand on Newt’s shoulder, though whether that was for intimacy or for balance was hard to tell.

“Excuse me?” Newt said, both staring and trying not to stare.

“I shaid you wahnt t’buy me a drink, then?” She repeated, louder this time, “Youu been eyeinng me hall night, ‘tss least y’could do.” Newt flinched as her fingers dug into his shoulder. Long nails always reminded him of cats, except cats had the evolutionary advantage to retract their claws (except for cheetahs, whose claws are semi-retractable and used for traction, like dogs). 

That was when the bartender took notice, “I think you’ve had enough, Stella.”

“I dohn’t care what you think!” Stella said.

Luckily, that was when Jacob stepped in and grabbed her hand, “Look, Miss, can I get you a glass of water? Maybe some food?”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Anything you want,” Jacob smiled. Stella smiled back.

“Y’see? Proper gentleman, ‘ere,” Stella said.

Newt drained the last of his drink and made his way outside.

It was cold, and the rain hadn’t quite died. A patch of men stood on the corner lighting smokes and debating a ride share. Newt stood alone, almost wishing that he smoked just so he would have something to do with his hands. He decided to call Tina, might as well let her know they’d be late. He opened up Skype and waited as it rang. 


	10. Mum's The Word

Queenie watched as the app switched from dial-tone darkness to a flickering live video screen. A young man with mad tawny hair appeared. He looked confused.

“Oh, sorry,” the young man said, biting his lip, “Must have the wrong number.”

“I don’t think so,” Queeniesmiled, “You’re looking for Tina, right?”

From the bathroom Queenie heard a muffled protest, “ _Queenie, Queenie what’s happening? Do we have a guest?_ ”

“Just a phone call!” Queenie turned the phone away to shelter it from the noise, then looked back to investigate the stranger. It was night time where he was calling from, and Queenie knew a Brit when she heard one.

“If, uh, if this is a bad time perhaps it’s best I call back later,” Newt said.

“Hogwash,” Queen said, “Tina will be right out. Are you her boyfriend? Tina never mentioned a boyfriend, before.”

“ _QUEENIE!_ ” Tina said, the tap stopped and Queenie could hear her sister fumbling with the shower curtain.

“Newt!” someone said from the phone, it was a man, and as he broached the screen Queenie could see he was short and dark haired, “Newt, help me with this one, won’t you?”

“Jacob, what’s happened?” Newt asked. Queenie watched as Newt switched the phone around in his hands so he could help his friend with a fall-down drunk woman who was fighting against his grip. From the looks of it, if he let go she’d eat pavement.

“Oi, get off me,” the woman said, her words shouted directly in his ear.

“Stella,” Jacob said quietly, with more than a touch of forced patience, “Your aunt is coming to pick you up, we need to wait for her out here.”

“My auwnt?” Stella said, “Sessh who?”

“You did,” Jacob said, “You asked me to call her, remember?”

“I dohn’t remember that,” Stella said crossly.

“It was five minutes ago, Stella,” Jacob said, “Please sit still, she’ll be here soon.”

“I dohn’t waaaaant to,” Stella sat on the sidewalk, near sobbing, “She’ll tell mum.”

Queenie could see Jacob looking up at someone, Newt presumably, for help. Instead his eyes finally caught sight of the phone, which was still making a live call with Queenie’s face displayed on the other end.

“Who’s that?” Jacob asked.

“Hello Sweetie!” Queenie said.

“OKAY, I’m ready!” Tina said, pulling the bathroom door open to let steam billow up out of the doorway. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she was in a fluffy lavender bathrobe, her eyes frantic to find the phone that Queenie had highjacked.

Suddenly, an ocean away, a dented red Mini Cooper honked twice as it pulled up to a curb in front of a pub. At the sight of the car a woman on the sidewalk stood up and bolted down the street. Queenie watched as Jacob called after the woman, **“ _Stellaaaaaaa!_ ”**

And then both men took chase.

Tina, clean now but very confused, turned to her sister, “What the hell was that?”

 

It was a very late night for the boys, time zones be damned. They chased Stella for several kilometers in pouring rain and only found her again in the same pub they left from in the first place. At least they didn’t wind up in jail. In the end Stella was carted off in her aunt’s Mini to sleep it off, and the boys walked back to their hostel without a single cent left in their pockets.

Newt never did manage to call Tina back, but at one point Stella stole his phone and tried to call her mother to apologize for getting plastered on a school night. Stella’s mother would never learn of the events of this night, but it made for a very strange voice message the next day for Professor Dumbledore.


	11. Labels are for Soup Cans

Queen helped Tina with the flat iron, separating her hair into strips and pulling them through the heated surfaces until her dark brown hair fell around her ears in easy straight lines. One of these days Queenie would get Tina to use her curlers instead, but for now Tina enjoyed a simpler look.

Things had been tense between them ever since the phone call, and while Queenie had Tina captive in front of their dressing mirror she decided to broach the subject.

“So, who’s your new boyfriend?” Queenie asked.

“His name is Newt, and he’s not my boyfriend,” Tina paused, then asked, “Who said he was my boyfriend?”

“I seen him on your screen saver,” Queenie said, “I got a brain, I could figure it out.”

Tina rolled her eyes. Queenie sometimes spoke more childishly when she was upset, a defense mechanism that mocked the expectation everyone had of her to be naive and simple. It annoyed some people, but no one more than Tina because she knew better than anyone that Queenie did have a brain, and a very dangerous one when when she felt like it.

“I can’t believe you broke into my phone,” Tina said. 

“Not like you made it hard,” Queenie sniffed.

“I’m serious, Queenie. That’s really not cool. I know we’re sisters but … this is mine, he’s my … _it’s_ my phone and I don’t want you sneaking in unannounced.”

Queenie bit her nail, then jumped onto Tina, wrapping her arms around her, “I’m sorry I was such a brat, I didn’t mean anything by it!”

Tina returned the hug, reluctantly, “I know, I forgive you, just, watch where you’re pointing that thing, will ya?”

Queenie pulled away, holding the flat iron out carefully. She giggled, “Yeah, let me finish real quick.”

Queenie spent more time with the flatiron than she usually did with Tina: going over each section with care, combing gently, and adding product to seal the hold. In the end she turned Tina around to face the mirror. Tina looked stunned, her usual hair care regiment left her looking poofy before lunch, but this was practically Hollywood.

“Queenie,” Tina said.

“You look beautiful,” Queenie kissed her sister on top of her head.

“Thanks,” Tina said. She felt a little burn at the corner of her eyes.

“Won’t you tell me about him?” Queenie said, giggling as Tina tightened, “Just a little?”

“His name is Newt,” Tina said.

“I know that,” Queenie said.

“He’s uh, he’s in grad school,” Tina said, “He grew up in England but went to school in Scotland. He has an older brother and his parents are zoo breeders. He loves animals more than anyone else I’ve ever met, and he’s bright and kind and he’s always in trouble.”

“Not your boyfriend, huh?” Queenie said.

Tina blushed.

“You really like this guy,” Queenie said. It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be.

“This is the first time I’ll ever get to meet him,” Tina said, running her fingers through her hair nervously.

“You’re gonna knock him dead,” Queenie smiled.

 

Tina waited until Queenie was asleep, then she creeped out into the hall and into the living room. She turned on her phone, 11:18pm. The screen saver had been a photo of a sunset for so long that she was still surprised every time a photo of Newt and the stick-bug popped up. The photo always made her smile. It was quickly becoming her favorite photo of him.

She called Newt.

 

It was early. It was late. His eyes hurt. His skin hurt. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong.

_Where am I?_

“Hello?” Newt said.

“Hello?” Tina said.

“Hello?” Newt said.

“Can you hear me?” Tina asked.

Silence.

“Hello?” Newt said.

“Newt?”

His clothes smelled like smoke and booze. His mouth was dry. He was wearing his coat like a blanket and Jacob was snoring. It was raining outside.

_Dublin._

“Tina,” Newt said. Finally, an anchor, something that made made sense. “Tina, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Tina said.

“Good,” Newt said, he rested his body deeper into the threadbare mattress. He was using the stack of folded bedsheets as a pillow. He fluffed them under his head, “Good. Good-good-good.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Tina said.

“I won’t,” Newt closed his eyes.

“You gave me your flight number, remember?” Tina said, “Check-in starts at 6am.”

“I’M UP!” Newt said, he threw his jacket off and hopped out of bed. He tripped over his boots and landed loudly on the floor. From the other bunk he heard the Greek couple swearing angrily.

“Jacob!”

“Noooooo, stooooop.”

“Jacob, come on,” Newt said, “We have to leave _now!_ ”

"What year is it?" Jacob said.

"Newt, Newt are you there?" Tina asked through the tiny tinny speaker of his phone, "Is something wrong?"

"I'm coming Tina," Newt said, "I'll be there tomorrow, I promise!" 


	12. Golden Ticket

The crowds at an airport really aren’t so bad if you get there before the sun comes up. Of course, you still have to find the proper terminal, and a machine to print your boarding pass, and if you manage that you need to find someone to direct you to the right security line. And, obviously, there’s the small matter of the (still) long zig-zagging line to go through the metal-detectors. Newt was never a fan, always made him a bit jumpy. No matter how many customs forms he filled out no one ever seemed to think he belonged there.

“Empty all the contents of your pockets,” a security agent said. She sounded tired.

“I don’t have any metal on me,” Newt said.

“You got anything else on you?’ she asked.

“Like what?” Newt asked.

“Paper, plastic,” the woman said, not bothering to get out of her chair, “Did you remove your wallet?”

“I, yes,” Newt watched nervously as his suitcase tottered along the conveyor belt and into the black box of the X-ray machine; he wanted to follow it on the other side, “I mean no. Nothing on me.”

He smiled for good measure.

The woman looked unimpressed, “Go ahead.”

Newt stepped forward into the large glass cylinder and onto the yellow painted footprints. He was instructed to raise his arms and he felt instantly foolish and somehow at fault. The machine whirred across him and they told him to pass through. They stopped him before Jacob could step onto the platform

“What’s wrong?” Newt asked.

“Discrepancy on the scan,” the woman said, waving him over to a roped off area away from the terminal, “We’re going to do an additional search.”

“Excuse me?” Newt said.

“I’ll tell you where I’m going to touch you before I touch you and I’ll use the back of my hands for all sensitive areas.”

“Newt, what’s wrong?” Jacob asked from the other side of the barrier.

“N-nothing,” Newt said, as the agent brushed up against his chest all the way up to his armpits.

“What’s this?”

“What?” Newt asked.

The agent pressed against Newt’s chest and something crinkled.

“ _boarding pass_ ,” Newt whispered. The agent gave him a hard look and Newt unbuttoned his shirt. The agent took the piece of paper, crumpled now, and examined it. He looked at Newt, then the form.

“Enjoy your flight, Mr. Scamander,” the agent said. The rope was lifted and Newt grabbed his suitcase without pausing to put his belt or shoes on. He threw them all into a bundle with his coat and called out to Jacob.

“Gate 37, we can make it if we run!” Newt said. 

 

The plane was humming as they side stepped down the narrow aisles to their seats. They shoved their suitcases into already full overhead bins and sat gratefully into small seats. Jacob was pink faced, sweat pouring off him as soon as he stopped moving. As soon as they caught their breath the seatbelt lights came on and the two of them burst into relieved laughter, _they had made it_.

Newt awkwardly jut his hips up to insert his belt through the loops in his pants, and Jacob put his phone on airplane mode. The flight attendants told everyone to sit down and watch the safety demonstration.

“So, you nervous?” Jacob said.

“No, I’ve flown plenty of times,” Newt said.

“I know that,” Jacob said, “I mean, are you nervous about, you know …”

“What?” Newt asked.

“The _girl_ ,” Jacob said.

“I’m not nervous,” Newt said, “I want to see her, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Tell me about her,” Jacob said.

“Her name is Tina,” Newt said, “She’s still in school, wants to pursue criminal law but I think what she really wants is to make a difference on the streets. She’s smart, and kind, and she worries enough for the both of us.”

Jacob was smiling.

“What?” Newt said.

“Nothing,” Jacob said, “She like animals?”


	13. Chapter 13

Reykjavík was gorgeous from the air, pink light peaking over the horizon to extinguish the warm yellow streetlights in the early morning. The entire city was wrapped in a warm fog that billowed from over the sea. Newt had hoped the specter of the northern lights, but this almost better. It felt like touching a dream.  

Newt checked his messages at the gate ( _nothing from Tina, long asleep by now, he hoped_ ), and Jacob arrived at his elbow with two paper cups.

“What’s this?” Newt said.

“This,” Jacob took a long swig, “Is coffee. And this,” Jacob held up the other cup, “Is cocoa.”

“Aw, thank you,” Newt took the cup, “Cheers.”

“Pretty good,” Newt said.

“Yeah it’s not bad,” Jacob said. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tired children wheeled by on a trolley and teenagers in pretentiously torn clothing sighed loudly at their long suffering parents. 

“You talk to your folks?” Newt asked.

“Yeah, they’re excited to see me,’ Jacob smiled, then added, “And you, too, of course.”

Newt smirked, “I’m sure they’ll tolerate me.”

“You think people don’t like you, but I don’t see it,” Jacob said.

“That’s because you like everyone,” Newt said.

“Professor Dumbledore likes you,” Jacob shrugged.

“Professor Dumbledore …” Newt didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

*      *      *       *

When Newt applied to their graduate program he had no idea what he was getting into, and he had shown up in Professor Dumbledore’s office without an appointment. In fact, he had snuck past the receptionist at the front desk while she was taking a phone call, and didn’t have any plan about what he might say once he got inside. What Newt didn’t know at the time was that even though Professor Dumbledore was warm and approachable in person, the man was so busy that even most of the faculty fought tooth and nail for ten short minutes of his time.

“Excuse me,” Newt knocked on the open door, “Do you have a minute?” 

At the time Newt had been working as a temp at a dusty bureau across town and the rest of the time he had been assisting his mother at the stables taking care of the ponies at the local zoo (the most temperamental and, in Newt’s experience, the most dangerous of all the equines). As a result of this precarious vocation Newt’s clothes were an amalgamation of petting zoo and office casual, and it didn’t help that Newt had run across town during his lunch break to visit the school.

Newt stared at the dapper academic behind the desk with pristine jewel toned clothes and a pair of silver rimmed half moon spectacles. Newt nervously tried to tuck in his shirt.

“Of course, my dear boy,” Professor Dumbledore waved him in, “I got your phone call, phone _calls_ , excuse me. I always have time for a passionate student. I assume those are for me?”

Newt looked down in his hand where his application was rolled up in his hand. He nodded and held them out, trying not to shake as he smoothed them out against the leg of his trousers.

“Yes, yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Scamander: good grades, impressive test scores, lot’s of extra curricular activities.”

“I like to keep busy, sir,” Newt said.

“No letters of recommendation,” Dumbledore noted as he flipped through the pages, “And there’s a year long gap in your studies.”

“Personal time, s-sick leave,” Newt said, choking on the excuses he had rehearsed so carefully in his bathroom mirror, “I can get a letter from my doctor, if you need it.”

Professor Dumbledore looked at him carefully for a long time, “You really want to join our program.”

“Yes, sir,” Newt said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I love animals, sir,” Newt said,

“You don’t want to go to veterinary school? You have the grades for it,” Dumbledore said, “You could work at a zoo, like your parents.”

“The world isn’t a zoo, professor,” Newt said, “The animals are out there.”

Newt gestured out the open window. All that was out there were some very fat pigeons. Dumbledore liked to spoil them.

“You’re quite sure then,” Dumbledore said, “It won’t be easy and it won’t be glamorous. You’ll spend more time writing papers and applying for grants than you can ever hope to spend in the field.”

“I’m ready to work, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled.

*      *      *       *

The gate called for boarding and Newt and Jacob rushed with their bags and half empty cups for the last plane that either of them wanted to see for a very long time.


	14. Continental Drift

Airports are magical places: lovers reunite, soldiers return from war, and a lucky few even embark on the greatest adventures of their lives. Air travel brings out the best in people, but it can also brings out the worst. There are tears of joy and tears of frustration; there are those who are lost and those who are found.

Tina watched every plane that rose and fell from inside the floor to ceiling windows of the airport waiting area.

Queenie had insisted that she borrow a dress for the occasion. Tina suffered through an hour long makeover montage, their options were limited by the fact that Queenie was easily two cup sizes larger than her sister, and all of the dresses Tina tried on fell too far down her chest for public decency. Tina clutched at her cleavage and Queenie laughed more than she had all year. And then, finally, Tina found one she liked: an empire cut dress with shimmering mauve fabric that Queenie had worn to her junior prom. It fit her so well that Queenie insisted Tina keep it. Tina had stood in the mirror a long time and wondered just what she thought she was doing.

It was the first time Tina had worn a dress all year, meanwhile Queenie wore a bright pink romper and gold rimmed sunglasses and somehow she still looked ready for a photoshoot.

Queenie sat beside her sister on one of the airport bench seats. The seats were rigidly upright and divided from the other seats by immovable arm rests to prevent anyone from laying down and getting any sleep. She tried her best to look nonchalant, but she had been on the same two-page spread of Cosmo for the last twenty minutes. She sipped at the dregs of her frappucino and watched her sister.

“You sure you don’t want to sit down?” Queenie asked.

“I’m fine,” Tina sipped on a watered-down tea and tapped her foot absentmindedly. There was a ginger tingle at the tip of her tongue, a sweetness she could almost taste.

“What time was his flight supposed to come in?” Queenie asked.

“Noon.”

It was half past twelve, and her phone had no messages. Tina set her drink aside, it had gone cold, “Maybe we should check the baggage claim.”

*         *          *         *

The baggage claim was a mess, naturally. There were the huddled masses yearning to breathe free, and all of them wanted their bags - NOW. Tina saw that there was a conveyor belt dedicated to Newt’s Icelandic airline. Tina pushed forward to reach it when someone stepped on her foot.

“Ow!”

“Sorry!” a young man said, squeezing between Tina and Queenie, “Excuse me, doll.”

“I’m not your _doll,_ ” Tina fumed quietly.

The man grabbed a tan leather suitcase off the line. After a minute examining the tag he turned around and shouted, “Newt!”

Tina looked up and suddenly he was there: Newt. He was taller than she had imagined, and his curly hair was weighed down from so many hours of travels. His eyes were red as though he had been rubbing at them very recently. He was wearing a white t shirt and rumpled camel colored trousers, a teal overcoat was tucked under his arm. She could see his old school colors on the scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Thanks Jacob,” Newt said, “I … Tina.”

“Newt,” Tina said.

She wanted to breach the space between them but she felt like her feet were glued to the ground. She willed him to say something. Anything. The seconds dragged.

“I meant to call,” Newt said, “We had to go through customs and I can’t figure out the airport wifi and I’m so sorry. This is Jacob, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Tina asked.

“Jacob Kowalski,” Jacob shook her hand, “And you must be the famous Porpentina Goldstein?”

“Hi Jacob,” she said, “Call me Tina.”

“And who is this?” Jacob asked, turning to Queenie as she stood expectantly at Tina’s elbow.

“I’m Queenie. I’m her sister,” Queenie smiled and shook Jacob’s hand. 

“Yeah, I recognized you,” Newt smiled and looked away determinedly.

Tina looked up at Newt, who stood with his suitcase and coat. Tina didn’t know what quite what to do next. She had been talking to him for months and usually he was hardly ever at a loss for words. Tina reached for his bag, “Did you want any help with that?”

“No,” Newt said quickly. He pressed his coat tight to his chest and looked around, “Is there, um, how do we get out of here?”

Tina was quiet for a moment, then said, “Just through those doors there.”

Tina led the way with Queenie as Jacob and Newt followed them several paces behind.

“ _What was that all about?_ ” Queenie whispered.

“ _Don’t, Queenie_ ,” Tina said. She shivered. The dress had been a mistake.

“ _I’m just sayin’._ ”


	15. This Must Be The Place

Outside the daylight was bright and wind whipped at their heels. A siren sounded in the distance. Jacob stretched out his arms, “Breathe in that city air!”

And then he abruptly doubled over coughing.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Queenie asked, “My goodness, you haven’t eaten all day. You must be crashing!”

“It’s been a while,” Jacob laughed, “Ay Newt, what time do you think it is back home?”

“You are home, mate,” Newt said, patting him on the back, “I don’t suppose you know a place near by?”

Tina froze but Queenie piped in, “I know just the place!”

*            *           *          *

They crossed the street together, Queenie and Jacob drawing closer together naturally over the course of three blocks. Queenie was good at that, getting close to people, and most people tripped over themselves to be close to her.

Tina and Newt walked more or less side by side, and she watched him: the flapping of his coat beneath his arm, the calamitous energy that he used to accelerate down the street, and the way his right foot jut out with every step and yet somehow he still moved with grace and confidence, shoulders back. There was energy in his fingertips and a twitch at the corner of his mouth as if he had words but not quite enough nerve.

Tina was just about to ask him what he was thinking when she heard a familiar chanting up ahead of them. She couldn’t believe she had wandered directly into the wasps nest. There was a bunch of people on the corner with neon signs and megaphones, they were all shouting about hell fire and the ways of the wicked. Tina grabbed Newt by the elbow and yanked them behind Queenie and Jacob.

“What’s that?” Newt asked.

“Second Salemers,” Tina said, hiding her face behind her hand, “It’s a long story.”

“Okay,” Newt said.

Suddenly Newt wrapped his coat around her shoulders and popped the collar up so that it came past her ears. Tina turned to look at him but he wrapped his arm around her to block her from view of the angry crowd, he held his finger to his lips and said, “ _Shhhhhh_.”

Tina didn’t know if it was the danger all around her or the way his arm held her close, but her heart raced regardless.

 

On the outskirts of the crowd a young man carrying pamphlets thought he saw a friend walking by in a flash of mauve and teal, but his eyes must have mistaken him. He returned to his task, reluctantly.


End file.
